Rarely pure, never simple
by Shimy
Summary: What happens when Beckett finds a piece of paper she was not supposed to see? A season 8 ficlet, probably two or three chapters. Just so I can get these ideas out of my head. Rated T for safety.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: Hi everyone! Okay, so I've started watching season 8 and I have to say that even though I do have mixed feelings about the current situation between Castle and Beckett (on some days I feel like it's a great idea, on others I feel like it's a horrible one), I was impressed by the sheer risk the writers have taken. That alone, I think, deserves to be given the benefit of the doubt.**

 **As for this little story, it takes place in season 8. I'm not quite sure how long it's going to be, but I was aiming for a two-shot, maybe three.**

 **Constructive criticism is always welcome, but bashing isn't because, hey, nobody's forcing you to read.**

 **As usual, I apologize for any mistakes I might have made - please keep in mind the fact that English is my third language. :-)**

 **I do not own _Castle_ , of course. I'm just using its characters to have fun and make sure my writing doesn't get too rusty.**

 **The title of this story obviously comes from Oscar Wilde's famous quote: "Truth is rarely pure, and never simple."**

 **And last but not least, enjoy your reading!**

* * *

 **Rarely pure, never simple.  
**

* * *

The soft, almost timid knocks on her office door startled her more than she cared to admit. Quickly covering her current work with other files, she spared a glance at her computer screen to check the time.

 _11:30 P.M._

Sighing to herself, Captain Kate Beckett was tempted to ignore the interruption but knew she could not afford to do so. Whoever was standing on the other side of her office was resilient and knocked twice again, prompting her to finally react.

"Come in."

The door was slowly pushed open and one of the precinct's cleaning operatives quietly entered, nodding his head to greet her.

"Good evening, Captain."

"Daniel?"

To say that Kate was surprised to see him would have been a huge understatement. She had known Daniel Barry ever since she started working at the Twelfth.

Well, maybe "known" was too strong a term to use since one could not exactly state they were spending a lot of time together, but he had most certainly been working here for longer than she had and she regarded him as a kind man, albeit extremely discreet. He was nearing his fifties now and Kate had always appreciated how calmly he behaved himself.

Tonight, though, he seemed troubled and hesitant, which was strange enough as it was.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Captain. I know you don't like being disturbed while working, but –

"There's no need to apologize, Daniel, especially when you haven't done anything wrong. Now, how about you tell me what brings you here? Would you like to take a seat?"

"Oh, um…No, but thank you. I just came to give you this." The older man explained as he extended his right hand to present her with a black leather wallet that looked suspiciously like her husband's. "I found it under Mr. Castle's chair and I thought that maybe it'd be safer with you."

Kate was momentarily rendered speechless as she took her husband's wallet from her interlocutor's wrinkly hands. Gently stroking the soft leather with her fingertips, she felt her throat tighten and swallowed with difficulty.

"I – Thank you, Daniel. I'll let him know it's here."

"You're welcome, Captain. Good night," was his only reply as he turned round to leave the office.

"Good night."

Only when the door clicked shut did Kate dare to exhale and sit back in her chair – she was not sure how much longer her legs would have been able to carry her, considering how badly they were shaking.

After unlocking her cellphone, her fingers moved quickly on the screen to type a text for Castle.

 _Hey. Just to let you know you forgot your wallet at the precinct. One of the cleaning operatives brought it to me. You can pick it up in the morning. Lo-_

She stopped, hyperaware of how she had to physically prevent herself from adding "Love you" at the end of her message. After having erased the last two letters, she hit the send button before she could change her mind.

She hated this. Absolutely loathed this fucking mess she knew she'd created all by herself. She could only hope she'd get to the bottom of this case as fast as possible so she could go back to Castle and beg for his forgiveness.

Her phone pinged, signaling a reply.

 _OK, thanks._

Nothing less, nothing more and she felt like crying _again_ and, really, shouldn't she be out of tears by now?

" _Of course not. You brought this upon yourself." S_ aid the little voice in her head. _"Now you need to fix it before it's too late."_

Easier said than done, that much was clear.

Kate was just about to square her shoulders, push her emotions back down and continue working her case to uncover whoever was hiding behind LokSat when she noticed the corner of a small piece of paper emerging from her husband's wallet.

Curiosity taking over her, she opened said wallet and felt her eyes fill with another wave of fresh tears when she saw the miniature sized wedding photograph that Castle kept there. Steeling herself, she carefully extracted the piece of paper that had attracted her attention and unfolded it.

She instantly wished she had not.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: Hi everyone! First of all, loads of thanks to everyone who favorited, chose to follow and/or actually reviewed this story. It was great to see that you guys were interested enough to care about what was going to happen next. :-)**

 **On another note, though, I would truly appreciate it if the review section wasn't used to actually fight over who is a hater and who is not and why.  
I understand that the direction the show is taking does not please everyone, but the review section is not the place to discuss it, especially when those messages start getting disrespectful. I will not - WILL NOT - tolerate any kind of violent/crude terms aimed at other people, and especially not at the actual actors/actresses of the show. **

**Like I've said before, nobody's forcing you to read this. If you don't like the story I'm writing and are just here to rant about how much you hate _Castle_ right now, please do it somewhere else.**

 **Also, I thought episode 8x05 was really funny! Loved Mia's character!**

 **Without further ado, enjoy the second chapter!**

* * *

Kate vaguely registered the fact that her hands were slightly trembling as she picked up the phone on her desk and, really, she could not care less. All she cared about was getting the information she needed. To be completely honest, she was pretty sure she knew the answer to her question already, but still wanted to get a professional confirmation.

"Perlmutter."

Unbeknownst to him, Kate breathed out a sigh of relief when she heard the obviously annoyed male medical examiner's voice come through the phone. At least she wouldn't have to ask Lanie about this – it would only have led to more questions from her best friend.

"Hello Perlmutter, this is Captain Beckett speaking. Listen, I've got a question for you."

"I'm listening."

"One of our vics had a prescription for Trazodone in his wallet." She lied easily, not wanting to give the M.E. an extra occasion to make fun of her husband. "Can you remind me what it's for?"

"Well, some doctors prescribe Trazodone to treat insomnia problems but it's also a commonly known, albeit somewhat archaic, antidepressant."

 _Oh, God. Castle._

With closed eyes, Kate staggered under the blow and kept silent for a moment, letting deep sorrow and a high sense of guilt wash over her. To her, combining Castle and antidepressants was almost like combining the North Pole and giraffes. Antithetical. He was the most hopeful, joyous man she'd ever met, always trying to see the silver lining in every given situation and on some days it felt like he was immune to despair.

But, of course, he was not.

The three months she left him after her shooting came back to mind. How angry – and rightly so - he'd been with her. How many times had he already forgiven her for hurting him? How many times would he still do it? When would the proverbial straw break the camel's back?

"Captain? Is there anything else you needed to know?"

She swallowed, trying to calm her racing heart and get her voice under control before she could form a proper reply. "No, thank you. Good night, Perlmutter."

"Good night, Captain."

As soon as she hung up the phone, Kate sank back in her chair and tried to collect her thoughts so she could decide on what to do next. At that moment, LokSat did not matter anymore, and neither did her reasons for leaving the one man she'd ever truly loved.

She left him to protect him, and even though it hurt like hell, she was still convinced that was the right thing to do. But Castle had been prescribed antidepressants, which meant he was losing hope and that was one thing she could not –would not - allow.

Her husband needed reassurance, and she would be damned if she ignored it and did nothing about it. Checking the time, she noticed it was past midnight now and thus refrained from calling him. Texting him was also out of question – this was too important to be dealt with that way.

Having made up her mind, Captain Kate Beckett opened her printer and took a couple of sheets of paper from it before setting them in front of her. She exhaled deeply, gently seized one her pens and started to write.

* * *

In the morning, Richard Castle woke up to the sound of loud knocking on his door. Grunting lowly and feeling slightly disoriented, he got up from the couch where he'd been sleeping and ran a hand through his bed hair in a futile attempt to get it somewhat presentable.

He unlocked his door and was understandably surprised to see one of his favorite NYPD uniforms standing there. He felt a sudden sense of panic rush through him – had something happened to Beckett? – But it quieted down when he noticed the lack of grimness on the other man's face.

"LT?"

"Morning, Castle."

"Morning. Did I do something wrong?"

The policeman chuckled at that – actually chuckled – and Castle took it as a good sign.

"Well, not that I know of." LT replied, smirking with amusement and enjoying seeing the writer squirm. "Is there anything you'd like to confess?"

"No, no, absolutely not! Sorry about that. Um – would you care for a coffee?"

"No thanks. I have to go back to the precinct. I just dropped by to deliver these to you." LT explained, smiling gently whilst handing over a familiar black leather wallet along with a white envelope to the writer. "Captain's orders."

Feeling his eyes go wide, Castle wordlessly took both items from the officer's hands and stared down at them for a couple of seconds. When he looked up again, he felt his chest fill up with hope, dread and gratitude at the same time.

"I- Thanks, LT."

After a courteous nod and a smile, the officer turned round and left without another word.

As for Castle, he quickly shut the door, basically threw his wallet on the kitchen counter, made a beeline for his office and practically jumped into his chair.

He took a deep breath, sent a quick prayer to whoever might be listening that whatever was in the envelope was good news – or at least not bad ones – and opened it.

Inside was a letter, covered with his wife's handwriting.

He started reading.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: Hey again! Wow, I am impressed by the number of people actually following this story! It's pretty amazing to me and also quite motivating. Thank you! :-)**

 **To the guest who gave me some update information about Trazodone: thank you! I may correct that later on but for now, the funny thing is that having made that mistake more or less serves my purpose. ^^**

 **Also, some people are seriously angry... Honestly, you'd better relax. It's just a story. Some of you said that writing a letter did not mean anything, and/or that it was the dumbest thing to do but, you know, I have to disagree. First, because I am the one writing this story and I basically do what I want (lol) but mostly because I truly think that in the era of e-mails, web chats, phone texts and so on, actual letters are so much more personal and incredibly intimate. Now, you don't have to agree with me, of course, but at least I will have voiced my humble opinion.**

 **And if you're feeling conflicted about this story, all the better! This is why it's titled "Rarely pure, never simple" after all.**

 **Special thanks to all of you who took the time to review and told me you're actually enjoying this.**

 **Enjoy the third chapter, starting with Kate's letter. ;-)**

* * *

 _Dear Rick,_

 _I really don't know where to begin so I guess I'll start with what matters most: I love you.  
I love you so, so much. I never stopped and I never will. _

_Out of all the things I am going to write down in this letter, this is really the only one I need you to believe._

 _The reason why I sent LT to the loft this morning is that when I retrieved your wallet last night, I could not help myself and opened it._

 _One could probably state that I don't even have that right any longer but, Castle, I swear I just wanted to take a look at the wedding photograph you keep there. But then I spotted the medical prescription you left amongst your notes._

 _Rick, I cannot even begin to tell you how sorry I am. I know I've hurt you – once again, you might say, and you wouldn't be wrong – and even though that was never my intent in the first place, it doesn't change anything about the wound I inflicted upon you, upon us._

 _I am glad you went to see your doctor for help, though. I – I just wish you never had to, and I am perfectly aware this is_ _ **all**_ _on me._

 _Please don't beat yourself up over our current predicament._

 _Babe, you didn't do or say anything wrong. You are indeed, to a certain extent, the reason why I left our home – and God, you would not believe how much I long for your arms to hold me at night – but not because I didn't want to be with you anymore, never because of that._

 _I hate this mess - just as much as you do, if not more since I am at its origin - except that I probably lost my right to complain when I asked you for space. Even so, you have to know I miss you. I am utterly miserable without you by my side and there's nothing I want more than to come back home to you._

 _Home is where you are. That's why I took one of your shirts the other day. I don't want to erase you from my life – quite the opposite. I want to keep you close and, wow, I must sound like such a hypocrite to you right now._

 _I am so sorry. I wish I could explain better._

 _But I can't._

 _I can't and I can't even tell you why. I can't explain because that might lead to serious collateral damage that, if it were to happen, I am pretty sure I would not survive. It's a risk I am not willing to take. It's not about not trusting you. I trust you with every fiber of my being, every single parcel of my heart and soul._

 _At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I love you, Rick. I swear I love you and I swear I am trying my hardest to clear this situation as fast as humanly possible._

 _I am also aware that when I come back home – not if, Rick, when – you might still reject me, and even though it pains me to admit it, I wouldn't hold it against you. Hell, even if you do welcome me back, we will probably struggle to find our pace again and that, too, will be on me._

 _As selfish as it may sound, I am placing my bet on your heart, Babe - your beautiful heart that is so much bigger than mine – to heal us when this whole mess is over._

 _I love you. I always will._

 _Always._

 _Kate_

* * *

As Castle finished reading, he could not quite put his finger on what feeling dominated the myriad of conflicting emotions rushing through him.

He easily recognized the scalding hot burn of anger and the viciousness of wickedness, the supposedly justified need to hurt his wife the way she hurt him – and who could blame him? His wife herself wrote she'd understand this type of reaction - but he was also experiencing the balm of reassurance wrapping around his wounded heart like the softest of bandages, along with the quiet whispers of love carefully soothing his tormented mind.

The writer in him could not help it: he started re-reading the letter, over and over again until he could practically recite every single sentence by heart. Then he started reading between the lines. Eventually, he knew.

Hope, bright and strong, flared inside his chest with as much clarity as a beam a sunlight cutting through the thickest morning fog.

Kate was not running from him, not in the way he'd previously thought she was.

She had found his doctor's prescription and had cared enough to reach out to him in the only way she could without anybody else being able to access it. That was why she'd entrusted LT with the envelope. She'd needed the safety and intimacy of a letter, and that alone spoke louder than all the words she'd written down.

For some reason, his mind wandered back to Willow Creek.

" _Ours is a great love story. And what's a great love story without obstacles to overcome? Every fairy tale has them. Terrible trials that only the worthy can transcend. But, you can't give up. That's the deal. We want the happy ending? We can't give up."_

Looking back down at Kate's letter, it suddenly did not feel like she was giving up.

Well, he would be damned if _he_ did.

All he needed to do was what he did best: follow the evidence. Follow the evidence, and find the story.

It was always about the story.

But first, he needed to give his wife something in return. And so, without the slightest hint of hesitation, he set to work.


End file.
